Consumed By Vincenzo’s Vendetta

Chapter 1PRESENT DAYGold Coast, Chicago•• •• ••Vincenzo Mancini•• •• •• “Isn’t that exactly what psychopaths do?” Marcel snarled. “Make a point outside the frame and confidently present themselves as winners.” I snatched the bottle from him, eyeing him when he tried to keep his grip on it. “You’re not going to have her, and that’s final.” “A little touchy about this one, are we?” Marcel remarked with a sly smirk. I reclined in my seat, “What can I say?” A man might want to enjoy the soft hands of these sexy, naked strippers without the constant bickering of his brother and their, but not a man like me, apparently. As it turns out, women and an endless addiction to sex and the unholy love for all the fucked up things you can imagine in the dark underworld are not the only things I share with my brother. We also share a passionate desire to bite off each other’s throats. Because, where is the fun in agreeing on a simple fact instead of bickering like two-year-olds? Nay, t

Chapter 3 Stacy °° °° °° °° It didn’t take up to a second for Vincenzo to react, snatching his gun even though the car was running at a speed he could barely control, and with a burst tire, we were likely to roll off a cliff or end up in an anthill—but that didn’t stop him. Without taking his eyes off me, he kept his pistol accurately aimed at my chest, his eyes a silent dare for me to do anything stupid with the rifle. “You’re going to drive us into a fucking ditch if you don’t control this damn piece of junk!” I hissed. “You have a knack for stating the obvious, I see.” Then his voice turned serious, “But around here, you don’t take unless I give, understood?” Something in the way he said that made my ovaries jump in excitement. Fucking idiots, I thought miserably, as if one Mancini wasn’t enough. Another loud bang outside and the little control Vincenzo had over it went flying out the window. It veered straight into the thick bush, making us both bounce uncontrollably in our

Chapter 5Stacy°° °° °° °° I slumped in the damn chair, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. It had been days—weeks, maybe—since I’d had a decent shower or a proper meal. I twisted my wrists, even though I’d done it a thousand times in the last hour, each time with the same fruitless result.I’m fucking tired, too fucking tired.But at least I’m still breathing, that’s a ray of hope there, right?Well, after the gunshot Vincenzo fired in the car, still breathing felt like a twisted miracle. Not even a scratch, maybe his target was bad? But he did kill that guy behind me without blinking.I sighed, I’d missed my only chance to run. That’s how I knew my body was losing this fight.Fuck, I’m so fucking weak!Sitting there, I felt like a piece of shit—dirty, useless. Vincenzo’s cells didn’t allow me the luxury of basic amenities, and my body’s biological functions had practically shut down for the past three months.But right now, judging by the way my stomach cramped and how h

Chapter 7Stacy°° °° °° °°I woke up with a throbbing headache, the kind that felt like a jackhammer was having a field day inside my skull. Squinting against the brightness of the room, I took in my surroundings, trying to piece together how the hell I ended up here.The bed I was lying on was massive—king-sized, plush, with ridiculously soft sheets that I would have appreciated under different circumstances. The room was elegant, far too flashy compared to the dingy places I’d been in lately. Soft light filtered through the expensive curtains, and everything was tastefully decorated, almost too perfect. For a moment, I wondered if I’d died and somehow ended up in a rich person’s heaven.Or hell. I mean, for the sins I’d committed, I might as well get a five-star suite in hell. Because I sure as hell didn’t remember checking into a five-star hotel anytime recently.I sat up slowly, wincing as the room spun for a second. Rubbing my temples, I tried to recall the events leading up

Chapter 9 Stacy °° °° °° °° Vincenzo left the room minutes ago, the door clicking shut behind him with that deliberate, measured calm he always seemed to carry. I stayed put, not bothering to track his exit or try the door handle, just listening to the sound of his footsteps fading away. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to go—not that I would, even if I did. The smile tugging at the corner of my lips felt almost out of place in this situation, but I couldn’t help it. The room he left me in was a study in luxury, but it was luxury devoid of any personality. Sleek, polished walls, expensive furnitures, all in muted tones that could have been plucked from the pages of some high-end magazine But there was nothing here to suggest that anyone actually lived in this space. No personal belongings, no stray items left out of place—just an empty, pristine shell. It was like a beautifully wrapped gift box with nothing inside. Well, except that wooden toy with my captor’s name carved in